The Mirror

The mirror is the voice of my father

Telling me who I am

Who I could be

It’s the voice of my mother showing me

The way of love and radical acceptance.

The nudge of my sister

Asking if all is well

Within my soul

The embrace of a brother

Assuring me it is so.

In the reflection I see

The ravages of experience

Burned into thin contours

Carved into the face I’ve worn these years

And the hair that is now in stark contrast.

The mirror hides no flaw

It tells no flattering lie

All it wants is for me

To see reality as it is

Without wanting to change a thing.

Do I love what I see?

Can I embrace the soul

That peeks through the eyes

Piercing back at me?

I am the object staring at the subject.

And then there is another

The gentle caress of a beloved

Bringing me back into the belief

That the adventures to come are far greater

Than any I’ve lived so far.

In rapt attention I notice

Seeing what you see in me

The champion of my soul

And in this moment

You are my mirror. And I yours.